


Bella Morte

by Maygra



Series: Unfinished Business [5]
Category: Fast and the Furious Series, The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: M/M, Unfinished Business Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maygra/pseuds/Maygra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Bella Morte</b><br/>(UB Coda II)<br/>All translations via <a href="http://babelfish.altavista.com/tr">http://babelfish.altavista.com/tr.</a> If I mangled your language, I'm sorry. (also, draftno betas were abused in the creation of this story, but their time is coming. NC17+) Many thanks<br/>to blackmeow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If you are trying to place it...maybe six months after the end of <a href="http://assignations.org/maygra/speed/unfinished.html">Unfinished Business</a>.  It really isn't a sequel, it just draws on on UB for backstory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bella Morte

  


* * *

Dom tried to not be that obvious about cruising the street. He didn't actually want to freak Rosa Vega out or make her think he was checking up on her or her husband. He wasn't. He just -- missed the house a little. 

It wasn't that he thought they weren't taking good care of it. He knew they were. Already Santos had painted it, something Dom had meant to get to for years. The old house now looked more like he remembered it as a kid. There was new swing set in the backyard and kid's toys visible pretty much all the time; bright colorful plastic on the porch, up the drive. 

The house really was meant to have kids in it. Mia thought the same thing, so much so that she was torn between keeping it and knowing that she could sell it to Santos and Rosa and know it was in good hands. It was house meant for family. 

Circumstances being what they were, it wasn't likely Dom was going to need it for any kids of his own. Mia though, that might well happen for her. Dom kind of hoped it did and at the same time, really wasn't sure how he'd feel about a brother-in-law. If he made Mia happy, Dom was sure he'd deal, but it was still weird thinking about it. It always had been. 

He tapped the gas pedal and moved on. The house was fine. He was just feeling a little nostalgic and after years of heading this way after work, it was a hard habit to break -- even if it were in the complete opposite direction of where he now lived. 

He missed the size of the house more than anything, he thought, that and the sheer familiarity of it. Not that he really needed that much space, but stillit was nice to have. And after months of living with Brian, he was pretty damn familiar with the smaller house too. 

It had its benefits. It was small, but not really cramped, which Mia's apartment kind of was. It had a yard, and a nice view and pretty much everything you needed to make a home which had everything to do with having "your" people around and less about stuff. 

Sometimes he had to do a mental adjustment, fine tune the thought processes a bit. He was used to being in house with people coming and going pretty much all the time, sharing the living space with his friends, with Mia, her friends, neighbors. Waiting for the bathroom, trading elbow jabs in the kitchen, even people wandering in and out of his bedroom unless the door was firmly closed. 

Brian was used to having the house to himself. He was not used to having to deal with even one other person, much less a half dozen or more. 

He was getting used to it though, because Brian's house -- their house -- had become the de facto gathering place on the weekends, partly because of the yard but mostly because it's where Dom was. And Leon and Vince, Mia, Letty, occasionally Hector or his friends, they would show up, with a case of beer, someone would fire up the grill or flip on a movie and that would be the afternoon. Brian didn't seem to mind that much, said he didn't but there was a little strain there, so much so that Dom had pretty much put a stop to the early evening into way-into-the-early-morning kind of gathering most of them were used to. If they were going to do something, they did it in the afternoon, through dinner. Dom had no problem at all chasing them off after that if Brian started looking a little overwhelmed 

And if Leon or Vince occasionally gave him sly looks or made smart ass comments about his real reason for wanting them gone, Dom ignored them. They were more often right than not. It wasn't like he and Brian were obvious about it, even though anyone who couldn't figure out what was going on between two guys in a one bedroom house with one bed, really needed to catch the clue bus. 

Letty and Mia had less to say and it was the one area where Dom did feel awkward. More so with Mia than Letty, although Letty occasionally got her jabs in when she was feeling a little bitchy. Generally she aimed them at Dom rather than Brian. Once she got around Brian for more than ten minutes, she remembered she thought he was okay. She thought Dom was okay too, but what they'd had gave her the right to occasionally remind Dom of it. She'd have done the same thing, and probably been more nasty about it if Dom had tripped over another chick. Brian seemed to be kind of in a weird non-compete category. Not always, but mostly. More like Mia, Dom supposed, who Letty had always know was kind of a deal breaker. 

Letty had moved into Mia's second bedroom and was actually going to school. She hadn't given up her love of cars or racing, but the last few months had given them all a really good opportunity to take a look at what they were doing and where they were going. Mia liked having her around. They were probably better friends now that Letty and Dom were not seeing each other than they had been when they were. There was some kind of bizarre symmetry going on there that Dom hadn't figured out. His ex, his sister who was sort of, kinda, almost Brian's ex. It was like his own private little reality TV program or like an episode of Real World, only there wasn't a cash prize at the end. 

And Brian and Mia, there was a strain there for a lot of reasons but they seemed determined to be friends regardless. It wasn't something either of them came to talk to him about. He could respect that and was finally starting to get over the strangeness that existed because Brian knew Mia as intimately as Dom now knew Brian. It was the degree of separation that mattered but it was still very strange and kind of well, gross, if Dom thought about it too hard. So mostly, he tried not to think about it at all. 

It really wasn't a problem, not when he had other shit to think about. Like the weird kind of domesticity he and Brian had settled into. Circumstances kind of forced it, if only because both of them worked and at least a couple of times a month, on different schedules. Brian got up early and made coffee, sometimes made up something for breakfast because he had to be at the precinct by seven, on a rotating schedule, and usually ran three or four mornings a week just to keep up with the department's PT requirements. Dom tried to get up early with him, but the garage opened at nine, and sometimes what he managed was a sloppy kiss and settled for leftover coffee. 

The garage closed at four, and Dom was usually home by five to get dinner started and Brian would get home an hour or so later depending on how his day went and how much paperwork he had to fill out. It didn't bother Dom that much, because he liked cooking and while Brian was more than willing to share the work -- or the fruits of Dom's labors -- he was an indifferent cook at best. He could grill a steak, or hamburgers, but he didn't actually cook. He prepared food, opened a can, microwaved leftovers. He was getting better though. He couldn't help but do so because Mia came over or they went to her place at least twice a week and cooking was as much a part of the whole getting together process as anything. On those nights they'd make enough of whatever for everybody to have leftovers. 

At least now Brian could make a decent pasta sauce instead of opening a jar. 

Dom decided he was getting old or soft or both because he found he liked it. It was as much an adjustment for him to get used to a whole lot fewer people in his life on a constant basis as it was for Brian to get used to more. They weren't exactly hermits, although the first few weeks -- well, they'd had some serious adjustments to make. Fun, satisfying, doing things Dom had rarely thought about before. Definitely an adjustment. 

Dom turned down the last street, going slow and watching for the kids that seemed to treat the street as an extension of their own front yards. Then stopped before he reached the driveway. Brian's car was there, in the street where he usually parked. That wasn't that odd but Dom checked the dash clock and frowned. Way too early for Brian to be home unless they whole police force had gone on strike. Brian left him the driveway and Dom pulled up, parked, and headed in 

He didn't see Brian but he could hear the shower and headed back, stopping inside the bedroom to pick up Brian's uniform which was in a pile on the floor. That in itself was weird. Dom saw them, because Brian had, like, four, but Brian rarely wore them home and the only time Dom ever saw them was when they came back from the cleaners. Brian left the house in jeans or slacks, changed at the station and changed again before coming home. Dom wasn't exactly sure why, but he suspected it had something to do with him and he could appreciate the gesture. But this looked like Brian had worn it home and that was not normal. 

The dark blue cloth felt damp and Dom, fingered it, then felt his mouth dry out at the reddish brown stains on his fingers. Blood. A lot of it and he almost freaked out on the spot. 

The shower was on, Brian had taken his clothes off and driven home. Whatever it was, he wasn't hurt or not hurt badly. Hell, maybe somebody hit a dog or something, momentary panic quelled. He found a plastic bag and thrust the uniform into it and rinsed his hands off, waiting for the shower to stop. It did after a few minutes and Dom brought back two beers. 

It took him a whole two seconds to check Brian out as he emerged from the bathroom wearing only a towel. Not a bruise on him as far as Dom could see and Brian smiled on seeing him, so nothing horrendous. 

Dom said nothing but held out the beer. Brian secured the towel and reached for it. 

"Do I look like I need this?" 

"No. But I thought you might," Dom said settling against the dresser. "What happened? There's blood on your uniform." 

"It's not mine," Brian said and took a long pull of the beer, but he looked shaken. 

"Yeah. I figured that out," Dom said. 

"They sent me home." 

They. "Bri, what happened?" Dom asked again but he leaned, catching the edge of Brian's towel and pulling him forward. 

"Rico got shot," Brian said and Dom froze. Tony Rico was Brian's partner. Dom had met him a couple of times: nice guy, pretty wife, new son. "He's gonna be okay," Brian added quickly. "Arm. Whacked his head on the curb when he went down, split his skull. Concussion. It bled like a son of a bitch. But they're only keeping him overnight." 

Shit. Dom needed a drink now, and he'd like something a little stronger than beer. It was easy to forget that what Brian did for a living wasn't exactly the safest job in the world. Brian made it easy to forget, because most of his comments about the job had to do with how boring patrol could be, what a drag the paperwork and court dates for tickets were, and sometimes how people really were too stupid to live. It made for great stories, made Dom's jaw drop at the truly insane things people asked of the cops -- like arresting a dog for "assault" on a neighbor's dog, people who broke into their own cars after locking themselves out then calling the police to get a report so that insurance would pay for a broken window. 

That kind of crap Brian put up with on a daily basis, but occasionally, it wasn't so funny. Domestic violence calls that went bad fast, robberies, car-jackings, gang blow ups. Dom had always seen it from the other side, now he had better than a birds-eye view of what it looked like from a whole new perspective. 

He'd started noticing his own shift in awareness shortly after Brian had gone back to work. He'd always kept the police scanner on in the garage, but usually ignored it in favor of music. Lately though, he'd found himself paying more attention to the sheer volume of calls that involved violence, more aware that at any time, it could be Brian answering one of those calls. 

He gripped Brian's hips and got him closer. "Robbery?" he asked, sure he sounded a whole lot calmer than he actually felt. 

"GTA. Two Kids. Joy riding. Owner of the car left a loaded Berretta in the glove box," Brian said. "The kid driving panicked." 

"You get them?" 

"Hell, yes" Brian said flatly. "I came close to blowing his brains out, the little shit. The gun went off and he just lost it. Dropped it. Peed his pants." Brian was agitated now, running a hand through his wet hair, not really trying to pull away, but there was a lot of adrenaline built up in his system with no place to go. 

"And Rico's going to be okay." Dom reminded him. 

Brian stopped and took a deep breath. "Yeah." 

"What was it? The car the kid jacked?" 

"A Camry," Brian said. 

"How old were the kids?" 

"Sixteen." 

"Juvie then." 

"Yep." Brian dropped his gaze for a moment, setting the bottle down before lifting both hands to rub at his face. "The other kid was Hector's little brother," he said finally. 

"Oh. Ouch," Dom said. "Hector know?" 

"Yeah. He came by, but they wouldn't release Jose. Hector wasn't very happy." 

"He see you?" 

Brian nodded again and took another slug of his beer. "Don't expect him this weekend." 

"He'll get over it." 

It was like a light bulb got turned off, Brian shut down so fast. Brian nodded again and pulled away, hunting for clothes. "I wasn't in long. Should be hot water left," he said. 

"Bri--" 

"Don't, Dom. It's not going to get any better. It's the way it is," Brian said and Dom clamped down on the sharp comment he wanted to make. 

"Okay. You sure you're okay?" 

Brian nodded, pulling out shorts and a t-shirt. "I'm gonna run." 

"You just had a shower," Dom pointed out. 

"I'll have another," Brian snapped out. Light on. Light off. Made Dom's head hurt. 

"Why are you mad at me?" Dom could have been a whole lot angrier than he was, but this had been coming up pretty regularly over the past few months. "Brian, you're a _cop_. Everybody knows it. And Hector may be pissed off because you had to arrest his brother…but…" 

"But what?" Brian asked. "He's more mad at Jose than me? For jacking the car or for getting caught?" he challenged. "Dom, I have done everything I can to keep what I am away from the rest of our life, but it's a little harder when the rest of our life is pointing a gun at me." Brian's face was flushed, strained, but he looked away first. "And I'm not mad at you, I'm just...pissed off. A couple of inches over and I'd be telling Maria Rico about her survivor benefits. If that kid had swung left instead of right, you'd be visiting me in the hospital." 

It was true. Dom didn't have to be a cop to know it. And Brian had been, well, skating the line pretty close, because for all that he liked a lot of Dom's friends, he also knew what they did when they weren't hanging around them. Most of it was petty stuff and Brian didn't give two shits about street racing really, except when he had to roll on one. He knew the participants or some of them just by association, since a lot of the kids were coming to Dom to help with mods. What Dom did wasn't illegal, but there was really only one reason to do some of the things he did. Brian knew too that Hector kept a barely legal 9 mm with a speed loader under the seat of his car and that the weapon wasn't registered. As long as Hector didn't -- as Brian said -- wave it in his face, he could and did let a lot of things slide. 

And Dom knew things that were going on that he never said and Brian never asked about. Not as much as he might have once because some people would now cross the street rather than talk to him. It had made from some pretty near-ugly scenes when they went out to old hangouts for a beer or to play pool. Some people gave him shit because he was with Brian which a lot of the guys he used to hang around with found as about acceptable as some of Brian's co-workers, and some of them avoided him because Brian was a cop. Some piled both together and more than once Dom had had to scrub graffiti off the garage doors. 

Hector was one of the few who did neither. He liked Dom. He liked Brian. It was enough. Until now. "So, what do you want to do?" 

Brian studied him, looking tense and angry still, but then it broke and he just looked tired. "I don't know. I just -- my worst nightmare is taking down somebody I know." He said and turned around to sit next to Dom on the dresser. 

It cut too close to home. Like right through the middle of their bedroom. Not that Dom was planning on breaking any of his parole restrictions, but at work Brian had to deal with this kind of bullshit from his co-workers as well, and the cops were just as likely to draw a line in the sand because Brian was a faggot as they were because his lover was an ex-con, twice over. He had friends there too, like Tanner, like Tony Rico, a few others, but there were cops who still thought Brian was dirty, and others who thought maybe he wasn't but that he got treated special because he was either blowing somebody or bending over for them. They conveniently forgot that he'd nearly died helping to bring down one of the biggest crime families on the west coast. 

Times like this Dom wondered if it was worth it. Not because what they had wasn't solid and real, it was, but a part of him was starting to understand his own mother's fear of his father's life as a race car driver. And another part of him was beginning to understand how Brian's mother could have walked out on her husband and son. He understood Mia's worry too. Being on the other side of a relationship where you weren't the one taking the risks -- that was some seriously shitty ground to have to cover at times. 

He hooked his arm around Brian's neck and pressed his lips to his temple. He didn't have an answer -- or he did, but he kept it to himself. Brian had walked away from this job once before for Dom, Dom wouldn't ask him to do it a second time. He kept thinking Brian would get tired of the bullshit, the bureaucracy, the harassment. He did get tired of it, but not enough to turn in his resignation. He'd already sat for one of two Detective exams, studying as hard as Mia did for her finals. Maybe if they passed him over, he would call it quits, come work with Dom, find something else. Maybe he'd end up dead or injured again before he got to try. 

Or maybe if he had, Hector's little brother would be dead instead of cooling his heels in juvie, because some other cop who didn't recognize him got over eager. Maybe Dom should remind Hector of that. "Why don't you heat up Mia's lasagna while I take a shower? We'll head down to Billy's and play some pool. I'll let you get drunk off your ass." 

It took a second but Brian finally smiled. "You gonna take advantage of me?" 

Dom grinned and bit his earlobe. "Probably. You want to be drunk or sober when I do?" 

"How about we skip the lasagna?" Brian said, stretching his neck a little and Dom took the hint, raking his teeth along Brian's jaw and then finding his way back to Brian's mouth. 

"Billy's has lousy food." 

"We could skip Billy's too." 

They could. They absolutely could. And leftovers could be heated up any time. "Do I get to take a shower first?" Dom asked, pretty sure he smelled like motor oil and sweat. 

"I think you smell pretty good." Brian went for his throat, pulling open the snaps on Dom's coverall, sucking at Dom's Adam's apple for a moment and nuzzling his collar, inhaling deeply. "'94 Chevy Impala." 

Dom caught his hair and pulled his head back. "You cannot know that." 

"That's what you were working on, right?" Brian challenged, pulling Dom's hand down and spreading his fingers against his palm, before locking their hands together. 

Well, he was in a better mood, anyway. He was fucking with Dom. Brian grinned and Dom glared at him, until Brian broke. "Leon called and said the carburetor came in." 

"You shit," Dom said and tugged on his hand. "Smart ass." 

"Ready ass," Brian countered and stood up, pulling Dom with him. 

Dom let himself be pulled forward until they hit the edge of the bed, before he went to test that readiness. The towel was still damp and Brian smelled of clean skin and soap. It didn't take any effort at all to pull the towel free, but Brian hardly seemed to notice. His mouth latched onto Dom's and his hand pulled at the snaps until the coverall was open to Dom's waist, then shoved the upper part off. 

Dom had to help a little, pulling his arms free and then reaching for Brian again. 

Somehow, in the months since this had started, among all the bullshit, this had remained constant: the desire, the hunger, the physical need to practically devour each other. It wasn't even something that haunted the back of Dom's mind most of the time, but it didn't take much to set off a flash fire in his blood, blanking out any other concern. It was like a drug, or Dom's need to push the edge of the speed barrier. 

Brian was the same way. Dom hadn't even gotten his shoes off before Brian was pushing down the coveralls, tugging at his underwear and then pushing him onto the bed. He left Dom's mouth feeling swollen and wet, and worked his way down. Lips and tongue and teeth searching out sensitive spots, like the top of Dom's shoulder or the softer skin where shoulder and arm met, then latching onto a nipple and sucking and biting in a way that sent a shock deep into Dom's groin. He wanted to kiss Brian back or drive him as crazy as Brian did him, but Brian was a man with a goal and still a little strung out. He had his hand and mouth wrapped around Dom's dick before Dom's back even hit the mattress. 

And Christ, he was good at it. Not that Dom thought it was actually possible to get a bad blow job: or he never had. Mouth to dick was pretty much all it took to make him get hard enough to have all kinds of fun. But there were definitely degrees of goodness to a blow job and Brian's mouth was pushing the edge of greatness. He was on his knees on the floor, braced between Dom's legs and against the bed, mouth sliding over Dom's dick with just the right amount of pressure, tongue tracing patterns from crown to balls and when it wasn't his mouth, it was his hand; his thumb stroking up from the root, palm wrapped firmly around Dom's shaft and squeezing. Dom pushed himself up to sitting, sweeping his hands lightly along Brian's jaw and into his hair then back again to stroke his throat and across his shoulders. 

Brian wasn't trying to bring him off although he could and had, but this was all about getting fucked and Dom really didn't have any reason to argue at all. It was a contest of sorts, to see who would lose control first and Dom was pretty convinced it would be Brian. He caught his head again and lifted his face. "Get the stuff," he urged and Brian gave his cock head a last lick before getting supplies out of the bedside drawer. Dom took a deep breath and hissed when he bent over to unlace his boots and get rid of them, the same for the rest of his clothes, then stroked himself to regain what ground he'd lost. 

Brian had the condom ready, and stepped in close to kiss Dom while he worked the thin sheath over him, stimulating him more. Dom pushed his hands away and pressed in, Brian's erection sawing against this own. His hand settled on the firm muscles of Brian's ass squeezing them, pressing his thumbs down along the shallow crease until he found rougher skin and Brian groaned into his mouth. Arms resting on Dom's shoulder, he practically had Dom in a headlock, pulling him in until they couldn't get any closer without melting into each other. 

Brian was a little harder to manhandle than say, Letty, but he was easy to persuade to step back, turn a little and drop, scooting back on the bed and grinning when Dom practically climbed on top of him. Dom grinned too, studying his flushed face, blue eyes a little darker then closing entirely when Dom's hand circled his cock and squeezed it, stroked it, until Brian was thrusting into his hand. Dom backed up a little and dropped his head, giving Brian's flushed erection a testing lick, then took him in. He'd been practicing too, because having another guy's dick in his mouth -- not something Dom had really given much thought to. His dick in another guy's mouth, that part he knew, but with Brian a little reciprocity was due. He'd been less surprised to find himself doing it than he had to find he liked it. 

Brian's hand cupped his skull, rubbed it, and he spread his legs a little wider, coming up on one elbow. He was thrusting again, lightly. When Dom glanced up, Brian was biting his lip, head back, the tension in his thighs and belly all because he was holding back. It only made him harder though and Dom caught the first taste of salty-bitter come on his tongue. Pressing his hands to Brian's hips he pushed him down a little and took him all the way to the root, feeling wiry hairs tickle his nose. Brian fell back, hips lifting automatically for more. Swearing a little as he tried to twist. Pulling back, Dom rubbed his thumb across the hollows of Brian's hips. "Easy. I'll get you there." 

"Sooner would be better," Brian growled. 

"You set the rules," Dom said and crawled up again, and dropped, pinning Brian to the bed. 

Brian so did not mind. His arms and legs clamped around Dom like a vise, hands digging into Dom's shoulder and his ass while Dom did his best to make sure all Brian's teeth were still there, until he found himself thrusting too, dick pressed hard into Brian's groin. He pushed up and hunted around, grabbing the tube and covering his hand with slick. He covered himself then cupped Brian's balls to give them a light squeeze and Brian arched up, then back wrapping his hands around the undersides of his knees to open himself up for whatever and everything Dom wanted to give. 

Dom offered fingers first and his mouth again, shoulders helping to brace Brian's legs, before shifting and moving and guiding himself into the slick hole he'd prepared. He licked up Brian's chest and chuckled: they were both sweaty now, the scent on Brian's skin going from soap and water to something lightly tangy, and still fresh, like the scent of the ocean. He tasted of salt too, tan skin sheened with it, catching odd glints of light when Dom moved against him. 

Brian arched up to meet him, hooking a leg around Dom to pull him in closer. His other leg went high, resting on Dom's shoulder, opened wide for Dom and swearing at him when Dom spanned his pelvis with his hands, raking up through the coarse hair and along his shaft with this thumbs. "You're a vicious man, Torretto," Brian gasped out, a shudder running along his whole torso. "Come on, Dom...fuck me," he said and only Brian could make something so crude sound like a prayer or a blessing. 

Dom grabbed his own dick, using his thumb to guide him, practice and instinct finding the slicked pucker. He did not want to miss this; nostrils flaring at the breathless sounds Brian made when he eased himself inside. Brian's eyes were glitter bright, but slitted, breathing ragged and harsh, grunting as Dom pushed in suddenly and fully. Brian's ass was breached and filled in a hitching glide that caught him just right on the first thrust. It sent him curling upward, Dom's name on his lips, his hand gripping the back of Dom's neck in an effort to impale himself further. 

Dom felt his gasp along his shoulder then the coolness left behind when Brian's mouth left his skin to breathe, to tense up and meet him before dropping back again and digging his hands into the blankets. Just watching him made Dom want to slow down, draw it out, and one of these days he was going to find the self-control to do it, to hold Brian down and take his time. 

So, far, he hadn't managed to do any more than think about it, because the minute Brian clamped down and around on him, long range plans fizzled and Dom could barely think through the next thrust, the next slide of skin, the next pulse of blood in his cock. He found the rhythm, found the angle and fell into it. The muscles in his back and legs warmed up, hummed, stretched and strained, leaving him trembling. When he pressed deep, he could reach Brian's mouth, feel his breath on his face, watch his gaze change from direct and compelling to being glazed with sensation and passion. He almost missed Brian stroking himself but managed to grip him, work him until Brian was bucking beneath him and setting off a sudden rush of blood in his ears. The tightness in his belly blinded Dom to thought and instinct took over. 

Another thrust and he was losing it, spilling come into the condom as he tried to dig himself deeper in Brian's body. His arms trembled and his thighs quivered and he eased himself down, listening to Brian's rapid breathing until it slowed. Brian moved cautiously and Dom lifted himself up a little to let Brian stretch out and roll to his side. Dom dropped in behind him, wrapping his arm around Brian and burying his face into the hollow between Brian's shoulders. He let his hand rub the cool and drying semen into Brian's abs and patted his softening dick affectionately. He gnawed a little on Brian's shoulder until Brian rolled back a little. 

Brian's mouth was warm and welcoming, soft, his body relaxed. He let his head fall back, eyes closed and Dom followed suit. They didn't actually fall asleep, just hung out in the haze for a little while until Dom stirred out of it to the feel of Brian's fingers rubbing along his forearm. Dom lifted his head to see Brian's eyes open again, staring at the ceiling. He nipped at his ear. "You feel up to eating something?" he asked, which really meant Brian should get up and fix it while Dom got his shower. 

"Yeah, I can do that," Brian said and stretched. Then he was moving and Dom propped his head up on one arm to watch while Brian found clean shorts to put on. A year ago, no one could have convinced Dom that just watching a guy move would give him such a rush. Now he found himself watching Brian a lot. Nearly as often as he caught Brian watching him, and there were a lot of times, he was sure, when he didn't catch Brian watching. 

And it didn't feel strange at all. 

Brian caught him and grinned, then came back and leaned over to kiss him. "I'll even put it in the oven. Take your time." 

"You're so good to me," Dom purred, catching his neck and ready to pull Brian back in bed. Brian laughed and pushed his hands down. 

"Later," he said and gave Dom a pretty firm swat on the ass. 

Later was a definite. 

Dom finally rolled off the bed and started the shower. Somewhere in the middle of it he heard the phone ring, but ignored it. When he finally emerged, Brian was back in the bedroom. He'd swapped out shorts for jeans and a t-shirt and was sitting on the bed pulling on his shoes. The laughter Dom had seen earlier was gone and the tension was back. Dom grabbed sweats and finished toweling off. "What's going on? You get called back?' 

Brian jammed his foot in his shoe and laced it up. "Rico's dead," he said, tonelessly. 

What? "What happened?" Dom asked, halfway through pulling his sweats on. 

"They aren't sure. Blood clot maybe." Brian said it with about the same level of emotion as talking about a clogged drain. 

"I thought he was fine." 

Brian shook his head, not looking at Dom. "He was in a regular room. No monitors. They were just checking him every hour or so because of the concussion. It happened in between checks." 

Blessed Mary, Dom crossed himself and offered up a barely remembered prayer. "Just now?" 

"About an hour ago. I have to go." 

"Go where?" he got his pants on but stopped in front of Brian. "Jesus, Brian. I'm sorry," he said. 

Brian nodded, but it was all form. There was nothing on Brian's face, nothing at all and his eyes, when he'd even meet Dom's were flat, a little dull. Not letting this touch him. "Me too. I'm going over to Rico's...to make sure...Maria...to see her. That was Hacker. He's taking her home." 

"Let me get dressed and I'll go with you." 

Brian was on his feet. "No. I don't think that's a good idea. I don't know when I'll be back." 

Dom stared at him. "Whoa, wait. Maria knows me." 

"Her husband's dead, Dom. My partner. I'll be reminder enough as to why," Brian said flatly, and headed for the door. 

Brian couldn't have startled him more if he'd hit him, but Dom moved fast blocking his way. "What's that supposed to mean? I didn't have anything to do with Tony dying." 

Brian looked away, jaw working. "I know that." 

"Do you? Because I don't think so," Dom said, holding tight to his own temper. "And Jose didn't shoot him, his friend did. They jacked a car, Brian." 

The color in Brian's face was not embarrassment. "And that makes it okay? It's just what kids do, where you come from?" 

Dom didn't point out that Brian had jacked a car or two in his time. "No. It doesn't make it okay. But I had nothing to do with it, Brian. Neither did Hector or my friends -- who happen to be your friends too, in case you hadn't noticed." 

"Yeah, Hector was a real friend today," Brian spat and pushed past him. Dom had to move again and this time reached out and gripped Brian's shoulder, only to have Brian swing on him and there was emotion there now, in the flush of his face, the set of his jaw. 

This could spiral out of control really fast. "Brian, do not make this the line that divides us," he said carefully. 

"Newsflash, Torretto," Brian said voice pitching up a bit. "This _is_ the line that divides us! That kid, any kid, any of your friends, _our_ friends," he snarled, sarcasm giving his words an uglier tone than Dom had ever heard. "You think they'd think twice if I had to break up something? The minute I put on that uniform, I stop being their friend. You know it, I know it and they know it. So, you tell me, Dom, when they bump Jose's friend's charge up to murder from assault, and Jose becomes an accessory and they push to have them tried as adults, you tell me. Could I walk into any place where your or _our_ friends hang out, and not get myself killed?" 

He knocked Dom's hand away and shouldered past him. 

Dom dug the heels of his hands into his eyes then followed him. "Brian--Stop, man. Damn it, O'Connor! I think _I'm_ a little more than your _friend_ ," he said. 

Brian stopped, his back to Dom. Dom was afraid to say anything else, because it was all true. "Brian...I am sorry about Tony. I am. He was a good guy. But this is not my fault and it's not yours either. And if it falls out like you say, we will deal with it then. I'm not asking you to choose, just. _Desidero essere là per voi._[1]. Don't shut me out, Bri." 

Brian's Italian was worse than his Spanish, but he knew those words. Dom moved closer, reaching up. Brian flinched but didn't move. Beneath Dom's hands, his shoulders were like steel. There was a tremor there too, and Dom gripped the muscles a little harder drawing Brian back. He was still stiff, rigid with anger -- and grief too, Dom had no doubt. As far as he knew, no one that close to Brian had ever died. Not his parents, no friends...Jesse maybe but they'd barely known each other -- a few weeks. He'd been partners with Rico for a little over three months after running through a half dozen guys who either had so much attitude or were so green, the partnerships hadn't lasted any longer than a change of schedule. 

He eased his grip and moved a little so he could see Brian's face. The anger was gone, the shock was setting in. Dom got in front of him and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, rubbing lightly. The stony set of Brian's face started to break down, his eyes too bright. It only took a tug. It wasn't the whole war, but Dom knew the skirmish was over when Brian's arm wrapped around him. Dom hugged him hard, " _Sarà tutto destra,_ "[2] he said quietly and doubted Brian understood the words, but he did understand the tone. 

Brian didn't cry, not then. He might not. Dom would have, but Brian wasn't Dom. "Let me get changed," Dom offered when Brian pulled back a little. Dom wouldn't push it again, but Brian only nodded. Dom cupped his cheek. "Two minutes," he promised. 

It was more like five, but Brian didn't object when Dom tugged him toward the Nissan, and Brian didn't say anything during the twenty minute drive. There were already two black and whites outside the apartment, and Dom ignored them, following Brian up the steps. They knocked but when no one answered, Brian opened the door. 

Other than telling Maria Rico he was sorry, Dom tried to stay out of the way. Brian's captain, Bruce Hacker, gave him a neutral gaze. A couple of the others officers looked a little more hostile but had sense or respect enough not to say anything. Maybe Brian had been right, but Dom ignored them. He caught some of the conversation, like the fact that Maria's sister was on her way over which was probably good because Maria was in shock, sitting on the sofa next to Brian, holding her sleeping infant and looking far older than her twenty years. Dom stuck his head in the kitchen and found what looked like preparations for dinner. Quietly he put the food away and made coffee, found some decaffeinated sodas and fixed one. 

Hacker was the one least likely to give him grief and he handed the glass to him, tossing his head toward Maria. Hacker looked a little surprised but he did it and Maria took it gratefully. The baby started to fuss and she looked a little distracted. "I need to feed him," she said, getting up. "And change him" she was starting to tear up again. 

"Formula?" Dom asked. 

"Si, thank you," she said and took the baby into the nursery. 

"You know about babies, Torretto?" Hacker asked. 

"I know how to read a can," Dom said easily and found what he needed. He'd watched Nina Gutierrez and her daughter Rosa fix enough bottles for their babies to be able to put the mechanics of it together. By the time Maria came back, Dom had the bottle ready; 'cause really? Not rocket science. 

Some of the cops left as relatives and friends started to arrive with the inevitable food. Brian helped Dom in the kitchen, not sure what to do. 

"What you're doing, man," Dom murmured softly as another pot of coffee was put on. "Help her keep track of what she needs to do. If there's anything she needs to have done," he shrugged. "It's not what you do, Bri. It's being there," he said. 

Some four hours later, Maria's sister convinced her to try and sleep. The baby had been put down in his crib a couple of hours earlier and Dom nudged Brian who made his goodbyes. Dom did too. _"Si usted necesita cualquier cosa, llámenos, Maria,"_ [3] Dom said and got a smile out of her and hug. 

Back in the car, Brian rubbed at his face. "You did good in there, Dom. I'm glad you came." 

It was an apology of sorts, but Dom didn't really need it. "I buried both my parents, Brian. I don't remember all of it, but I remember there were people there to handle the simple things. What's she going to do?" He hadn't talked to her much. 

"Her folks will be here tomorrow. Tony's parents are flying in the day after for the funeral. Half the force will be there. Might not be comfortable for you." 

Under other circumstances Dom might have punched him for such an asinine statement, but at the same time, in his own way, Brian had just asked him to go. "I could give a shit. You want me there?" 

"Yeah," Brian said. 

"Then I'll be there," Dom said and reached over to grip Brian's neck again, squeezing lightly. 

They spent a good portion of the next day there, bringing food, offering to help pick people up from the airport. Brian had to go in to work and make another statement about the shooting then make an appointment to see the department shrink -- SOP for a the loss of a partner, he told Dom. 

The day of the funeral was beautiful: clear and sunny, with enough of a breeze to make it comfortable. It was a spit and polish, solemn service and Dom watched Brian clean his shoes and hat as if they'd reveal some greater truth about all of it. Dom stayed low key, watching _his_ partner because Brian had been unusually close mouthed over the last few days. His own dark suit was new, but he got a half smile out of Brian when he put it on. "Need to take you out more," Brian said. "You look good." 

Brian did too although Dom didn't say anything because he'd seen Brian in uniform, like twice, and now was not the time to comment on how good he looked in it. But Dom reminded himself to tell Brian, that if he was hiding his uniforms for fear of making Dom uncomfortable, it wasn't necessary. 

The service itself was a pretty traditional Catholic mass, and Dom was among those who got up to take communion, while Brian sat stiffly in the pew right behind the rest of Tony's family. At the graveside, the pall bearers were made up of Brian, Hacker, and another officer Tony was friends with, as well as three male relatives. 

Dom hung back at the cemetery, kind of surprised at the sheer number of people who showed up. Not all of them even knew Tony Rico or his wife, but as Brian said, half the department was there along with an honor guard. 

And the news crews. That seemed pretty tacky to Dom; they were like vultures. But an officer killed in the line of duty was apparently big news and on reflection, Dom thought, maybe it should be. He had a brief flash on the whole thing as the casket was lowered. 

It could have been Brian. 

He'd faced that option before, before he'd even known what he might be losing. But this was a pretty big wake up call. No, it didn't happen often, but it did happen. A few other things were haunting him as well, because the angry words Brian had offered up about their friends -- those were true too. 

They had another couple of hours for a reception, which Dom thought might be more of a strain on Brian than the funeral had been. Maybe it was, but it didn't show, even when Brian accepted condolences on his own behalf and not just on Maria's. 

Then they were done and Brian was pulling at his tie before they hit the car, looking wrung out and tired and a little angry but not viciously so. "She's going to move back with her parents, up in Oakland," he told Dom. "I offered to help her pack." 

"We can do that." 

It was a week before things settled down again, before Dom accepted that Brian wouldn't implode. They got Maria packed and moved, other officers showing up to help and this time the hostility less obvious. 

Dom had a lot of time to think about it all. His innate distrust of cops had been muted by knowing Brian, Rico, a few others like Detective Tanner. The men and women Brian worked with, who knew anything -- and rumors flew fast at the LAPD -- only knew that one of their officers was shacking up with an ex-con, but they didn't know _Dom_. Not the way Dom's friends knew Brian. There was a balance there that he'd missed, one that Brian had kind of manipulated into being. 

Tony Rico had gotten to know Dom by accident more than anything, giving Brian a ride into work and back again while Dom was working on the Mustang's clutch. If he knew anything, heard anything, he wasn't letting it touch his partnership with Brian. He was young, eager, easy to talk to. He had invited Dom and Brian to dinner without hesitation, which made Dom think either he didn't know or he didn't care. Both worked. Dom had a snagged some tickets to a race and they'd all gone because the Rico's had never been. Maria had gotten into it more than Tony, eight months pregnant or not. Later there'd been an invitation to the Christening. Not a lot of time together but some. 

It was what partners did, Dom supposed. You had to trust the other guy to watch your back. Tony had trusted Brian, but it had gone wrong. Badly, horribly, in the worst way possible wrong. 

They kept Brian off patrol for a while, also standard, Brian told him. They'd find him another partner eventually, get him back on the street. In the meantime, Brian had another exam to study for, or he should have been but the books and manuals remained largely untouched. 

When people showed up the following weekend, neither he nor Brian were surprised at Hector's absence. Chances were Jose probably wouldn't be tried as an adult, or even an accessory and Dom wondered if Hector knew who he had to thank for that. Jose's friend though, not so lucky. Dom didn't even want to think of some kid doing hard time: he'd be lucky to survive. But he was somebody's kid and even if Dom didn't know him, chances were Hector did. 

In a way, it was family only. Nobody talked about it, and Dom was ready to shut down the first sign of anything even remotely judgmental, watching Vince especially, who tended to let his mouth run away with his brain sometimes. He caught Vince and Brian talking, but Vince only finished whatever he had to say and dropped his fist lightly on Brian's shoulder. That was friendly and Brian was smiling a little when Vince headed back to the beer and the food. 

Long after they'd left, after the dinner stuff was put away and they were tangled together and sweaty, Dom asked him about Vince. 

"Nothing, just to say he was sorry I'd lost a friend," Brian said, "and then he started talking about how kids today have no respect." 

Dom didn't mean for it to, but the laughter exploded out of him. "Vince said that? Our Vince?" 

Brian grinned, teeth gleaming in the dim light. "Yeah. Our Vince." He rolled over a little facing Dom. "How hard is this for you?" he asked and despite their positions, Dom was pretty sure Brian was not talking about body parts. 

"Us or your job?" Dom asked. 

"Both?" 

"Us?" Dom shook his head. "No problems, Brian. As long as you remember it is us. You don't get to pick when it's just you. Not anymore." 

Brian digested that then nodded. "Okay. Fair enough. The job?" 

Tougher and even as recently as a month ago Dom wouldn't have really made it an issue. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling and Brian went with him, resting on his chest. "First...you know my attitude toward cops has a changed a little." 

"I'd noticed," Brian said and Dom could hear the smile. "A little." Dom swatted his ass. 

"I'm being serious here," he said. "Some cops are assholes, Brian," he affirmed. "They were assholes before they joined the force, and they have stayed assholes. But now they have badges and guns and authority." 

Brian didn't argue, but he didn't agree either. 

"Most of them, though, they are just guys doing a job. I've always known that. I was taught the same thing you were as a kid. You got trouble, you get lost, you find a cop." He pushed his fingers through Brian's hair. "Worked for me, you know," he said softly and Brian lifted his head. Dom pulled him down and let his mouth tell a truth that words couldn't. "But your job" he said finally. "Your job is a little scary, You've got no control over the risks you take. It's not like racing. It's not even like...hijacking a truck. You never know what you're going to walk into. And the shit _you're_ putting up with -- you think it's going to get better if you make detective?" 

"That's not why I'm taking the exams, but no...maybe. I don't know, Dom," Brian said and pushed up to sit. "My dad was never more than a patrol officer. Detectives are less likely to get shot at, but" he shook his head. "Beat cops do a lot of clean up. Detectives...sometimes they can clean it up before there's a mess." 

Dom sat up as well, wrapping his arms around Brian and resting his chin on his shoulder. "Your job kind of sucks, man." Dom said. "That's what I see, but you tell me, you like it? Or are you doing it because you're good at it? Or is it something else?" 

Brian dropped his head back. "Some days...I hate it more than you could possibly imagine, but mostly -- both, Dom. I like it and I think I'm good at it. Plus, being a detective would get me out of that fucking uniform." 

Dom chuckled against this shoulder. "I don't know, Bri. I think you're kinda hot in that uniform." 

"Oh, yeah? Got a little Chippendale fetish going there, Torretto? What do you like best, the cuffs or the nightstick?" 

Dom squeezed him hard enough to make Brian squeak. "I like the way the pants hug your ass, funny boy," he said and jerked him back down and rolled on top of him. Brian was grinning at him, way more relaxed. "You want to make detective, kiddo, you're gonna have to study harder." 

Brian sighed. "I know. But, you wish I'd quit?" 

Dom dropped his head to Brian's chest and thought about it. Half his brain was screaming yes, but the other half -- it would be like Brian asking him to give up cars or racing. And granted, right now, Dom wasn't doing much of any kind of racing except against himself, way the hell out where no one could see, or by renting track time which was expensive but satisfying. In a couple of years, he might could head to Mexico or Canada and tear up some track there. He pressed his lips to Brian's chest and lifted his head. "I do not want to be Maria Rico," he said finally. "So as long as you keep that in mind when you're in the middle of somebody else's mess, I'll deal." 

Brian nodded, and pulled him up. "I'll keep it, you, in mind," he promised, and sealed it every way he could think of. 

It didn't come up again. Not directly, but Dom had to think about it once Brian was off his desk and back on the streets. Brian's tests were coming up, then there were interviews, applications to various divisions. Dom even tried to help him study and found himself fascinated despite himself. Brian could make a helluva lot more money being lawyer, and apparently a detective had to know nearly as much. Procedures, Statutes, jurisdictional limitations, no wonder detectives like Tanner always seemed a little grumpy. 

The tension was still there though. Low key and they both knew it. Studying gave Brian an excuse not to have a bunch of people over, but at some point, they would. Brian wasn't going to ask Dom to cut all ties to his old life and Dom knew it. Knew he had to give it serious thought. What happened with Hector's brother might never happen again, or it might happen tomorrow. 

He hadn't expected to see Hector at the garage. The hearing, the trials, the sentencing, all had happened pretty quickly and Jose was doing his time: lighter than it could have been with no priors, heavier because his buddy had been stupid. Six months in, six months under a social worker's eye. Even after it was settled, Dom had avoided some places and people because the hassle had made him come closer to losing his temper than he had in a while. Mostly from the harder set, wannabe gang-bangers, who thought ragging on Dom because of his "boyfriend" made them look tough. He liked the money their business brought in, but he didn't like it well enough to put up with the bullshit. When Hector showed up, he expected more of the same. 

"Dominic, _como esta_?" Hector said, getting out of his car and leaning over the roof. Dom set aside his tools and came to the front of the garage, let Hector and Leon and Vince get their hellos out of the way. 

" _Bueno_ , man. What's up?" he asked. At least Hector wasn't slinging attitude right off the bat. 

Hector shrugged. "Nada. Just out this way, thought I'd see how you were doing. Ain't seen you in a while." 

Dom spread his hands. "You know where I am." 

Hector nodded again and tapped on the roof. "How's the Snowman?" 

Snowman, there was something no one had called Brian in a while. "He's okay. Back on the street." 

"He got a new partner yet?" 

"Not permanent, no," Dom said. In truth, Brian was riding solo, which was making Dom a little nervous, but he was cruising better neighborhoods at the moment, so it wasn't so bad. Somebody had brains enough to keep him out of south central for the time being. 

Hector still looked fidgety, like he had something else he wanted to say and Dom came a little closer, leaning against the front quarter panel. "How's Jose doing?" 

Hector waggled his hand. "Whining a little. He's all right. I heard...I heard that Brian put in a word for him. Thought maybe you could tell him I appreciate it." 

"Do I look like his answering service?" Dom asked. "Tell him yourself." 

Hector huffed and backed up a few feet only to come in again. "Not likely to see him, am I? He's your boy, Dom. You can tell him." 

"You know where we live," Dom said, reasonably, but his jaw was clenched. He thought better of Hector than this. 

Hector pursed his lips and shook his head. "I can appreciate what he did, but Jose is my brother." 

"Brian used to be your friend," Dom said flatly. "That had as much to do with him putting in a good word as anything," Dom said and it was only a partial lie. Brian was more fair-minded than that. He'd spoken on the other boy's behalf too. It had not scored him any points with some of his co-workers, but the ones that really got ticked off already hated Brian. It was just fuel. Brian had reserved most of his anger for the asshole who had left a loaded gun in his car. He wasn't likely to get any legal satisfaction there, but the owner of the car was likely to find himself getting pulled over a lot, for the most minor of traffic infractions. 

"I know," Hector shot back at him. "But you know, he's still a cop, Dom. _No hace los hermanos felices, comprende_?" 

"I don't give a shit about making them happy, Hector," Dom said, letting his anger swell up a bit. "Cop or no cop, there's a friend of Brian's dead. And if had gone some other way, you and me, Hector, we'd be having a whole other conversation. _Comprende_?" 

"Shit, Dom! You live here, man! You know what it's like...if it had been some white boy from the valley that had popped that cop, he'd get a slap and counseling. But, _dos pequeños hermanos mexicanos?_ " He slammed his hand down hard on the roof of his car. "Hard time!" 

Dom couldn't argue with the facts. "Brian didn't set the rules." 

"No, but he plays by them," Hector said, the anger real, and Dom could even understand most of it. It wasn't entirely aimed at Brian, but Brian represented everything unfair and bigoted that haunted the barrios and poorer sections of town like a plague. "What, Dom? You forget who you are? He draining your self-respect when he sucks your dick?" Hector snarled out. 

Dom didn't even think about it. He was up and over the hood of Hector's car like he'd been launched. He heard Vince and Leon yelling at him, but ignored them for the satisfaction of driving his fist into Hector's face. Hector gave as good as he got and Dom tasted blood, a flair of pain when his back took a jab from the side mirror, but then he had Hector down, ready to do some dentistry, before he found himself being hauled back, Vince leveraging all his weight into Dom's chest and Leon providing a buffer to Hector. 

Dom wiped at his mouth, glancing at the smear of blood then shoved Vince off and spat on Hector's car. "Don't ever talk to me about self-respect when you haven't go the _cajones_ to say thank you to the man who probably kept your baby brother from being some con's bitch," he growled at Hector and turned to head back to the garage only to whirl around again. "Get the fuck out of here, before I teach you the manners your mama obviously forgot to, asshole." 

Vince and Leon stayed between them, Dom's one glance at Hector showing him still a little wild-eyed and angry, rubbing his jaw, his nose bleeding. Dom turned away and stormed into the garage and into the bathroom, rinsing out his mouth and spitting more blood, testing the split on his lip and the swelling on the bridge of his nose. He looked up to see Vince in the mirror, kind of hovering. 

"You been friends with Hector for a long time," Vince said, scratching at his jaw. "Longer than Brian." 

Dom closed his eyes and prayed for patience. "Yeah, well Vince. I've been friends with you for even longer and you still manage to piss me off pretty regularly. Get back to work," Dom said gruffly and wiped his face before heading back in. 

Hector was still out there, arms waving while Leon talked to him. Dom put his fingers to his mouth and whistled. "Leon! We got work to do, man!" Dom called out. Leon waved and said something else then headed back in. A minute later when Dom looked up, Hector was still there, sitting in his car. Dom ignored him until he heard the door slam. 

Hector was stalking up the shallow slope to the garage and Dom stood up and very deliberately put down the wrench he was using. He didn't say anything but he heard the air compressor go silent behind him. 

Hector still looked about as pissed off as Dom felt, but he put his hands up, palms open. "I had no call to say that," he said finally, and Dom grunted. What did Hector think? That that would make his day? Not fucking likely. He turned away. 

"Dom!" Hector called out. "The Snowman, when's he gonna be around?" 

Dom stared at him. Hector still looked mad, but he also looked uncomfortable, like recognizing that this really wasn't about Brian at all. He'd never really thought Hector would _do_ anything to Brian, except shut him out. Shut Dom out. Dom could live with it, but it didn't make it any less wrong. 

He was still pissed off, but Hector, hell, all of them including himself, were so used to thinking one way, it was hard to see they might be part of the problem. Dom sucked on his teeth and felt the burn of the split. "We'll be cooking out on Saturday," he said. "You bring the drinks." 

Hector considered it and nodded. "I can do that." 

Dom nodded then dropped his gaze. "Hector, if you show, the Glock under your seat? Leave it at home," he said, and met Hector's narrowed gaze with one of his own. 

Hector scowled for a minute and then rubbed at his nose, fingers coming away bloody. "It ain't there no more," he finally admitted. "I moved it." 

"Oh, yeah?" 

"Yeah," Hector said and then grinned, looking a little sheepish. "Whose car you think Jose practiced jacking?" he said 

Any other time Dom might have laughed at that, but he only shook his head. "Smart move." 

"Use your bathroom?" he asked him and Dom gave him a nod toward the restroom and went back to work. He didn't speak to Hector again and Hector didn't hang around. 

They locked up a little early, and Dom stopped to grab a beer with Leon and Vince, needing to put a little chill on his temper before he even tried to explain what happened. The chill didn't work entirely, but at least it put him more on simmer than ready to boil over. Shower, change, hunt through the kitchen for what would make a meal. Cooking calmed him down further. 

Enough for him to worry a little when Brian finally got home. Brian though, once more surprised him, or maybe he was just in a good mood. Or maybe they had somehow gotten so far in synch, that they just automatically balanced each other out. That was a thought. 

Brian sorted through the mail. He'd seen Dom's face, but hadn't said anything, But when Dom reached for his collection of bills and magazines, Brian caught his hand, examining the bruised knuckles. He rubbed his thumb over them, before slipping past Dom to snag a couple of beers. "Take up boxing at the gym?" he asked mildly, blue eyes calm, when he turned around and handed Dom an open bottle before setting his shoulders against the refrigerator. "What happened?" 

Dom had a breathtaking sense of _déjà vu_. "I saw Hector today," he said and Brian tensed a little, eyes narrowing but he only sipped his beer. "He's coming by on Saturday." 

"Is he? What, you had to beat him up to persuade him?" Brian asked and Dom dropped his head and chuckled. "Man, your family. You've got some weird-ass ways to show affection and extend invitations," he said and pushed off, thumb lightly stroking over the cut on Dom's lip. "Defending my honor, Dominic?" Brian asked him. 

Not exactly. Defending his own was more how it went down. "Making a point," Dom said. "You okay with him coming over?" 

"Depends on if this," Brian leaned in and let his lips barely brush over the cut, "was the end of it or just round one. I'd feel kind of stupid calling myself on a domestic disturbance complaint." 

"It was the end of it," Dom said and prayed it was true. 

Brian accepted it. "Hurt?" 

"Naw..." Dom said, not sure what he was seeing in Brian's face. Humor, yeah, but there was something else there, something a little forced. 

"You sure? Not even a little?" 

Whatever it was, Brian was keeping it to himself for now. "Maybe a little," Dom said and opened his mouth to Brian's. Brian set his beer down, pressing his mouth to Dom's, pressing him back against the counter. Dom reached for him too, sliding his hands along Brian's back then up to his shoulders to knead them a little 

Brian did the same thing, rubbing along Dom's back until he hit the tender spot where Dom had hit the mirror. He wasn't prepared, and a grunt of discomfort escaped him before he could stop it. Brian went still, pulling his mouth back, rubbing the spot a little more carefully. 

"It's just a bruise," Dom said feeling a little defensive. Did Brian think he was made of glass? 

No. Not him. Not Brian either, but Dom suddenly saw, with awful clarity, just how fragile what was between them was. Strong too, like tempered glass, sharp and clear, but it could be broken. Hit it often enough, hard enough, and it wouldn't crumble into little bits of safety glass: it would shatter, leaving jagged edges and dangerous slivers dangling, ready to fall. 

Dom reached behind him and found Brian's hand, lacing their fingers together and pulling their hands forward. "He had a few things he wanted to get off his chest. So did I. But he's coming _here_ , because he owes you a thank you," Dom said, poking Brian in the chest. "That was it, Bri. He's mad but not really at you. I was mad too, definitely at him." 

"He said something," Brian pressed. 

Shit. Well, either Brian was going to make a hell of a detective or he just knew Dom too damn well. "He did." 

Brian waited. Repeating it made it sound a whole lot dumber than it had at the time. Schoolyard taunts, kids mouthing off at each other, insulting each other's mothers. Brian's gaze narrowed, but then he relaxed. "He might have a point, you know," Brian said at last. 

"Oh, yeah?" 

"Yeah. When I suck your dick, your brains kind of fall out," Brian said, seriously, but it made Dom grin and shake his head. "But...not your self-respect, I don't think." Brian didn't sound entirely sure. 

"It doesn't," Dom said firmly. He didn't need Hector or Vince or Leon or anybody's respect enough to give up Brian over it. 

Mia...Mia might have been a problem, except, she wasn't, and chances were that if she really had a problem with it, with Dom being in love with _anybody_ and not just another guy, it wouldn't have been worth the conversation. What was best for Dom made her, if not happy, then at least satisfied. He felt the same way. 

And his own self-respect -- he'd gained more back from knowing Brian than he'd lost pursuing a dream of being rich and clever and daring at someone else's expense. No one had owed him the haul from the hijacked trucks, and what respect he might have gained in the actual doing of the job had faded pretty quickly in the stark reality of the consequences. Consequences he'd only partially paid during his six months in Chino. 

"Not something anyone can take away," Dom said and poked Brian in the chest again. "Not even you, Bri." 

"Okay, then," Brian said and whatever Dom had seen in his eyes earlier was gone, but Dom thought he had a better idea of what it was. They'd deal with that too, eventually. 

Saturday rolled in with a scattering of rain that nonetheless, cleared off by mid-afternoon which was good, because the house, though comfortable for a few, tended to get crowded pretty quick. They had the food on the grill and the table spread out, with no sign of Hector but neither Brian nor Dom said anything, They had beer and soda in the house and if they needed more, it wasn’t far to a store. There were a few more people than usual, Letty and Mia dragging in a couple of friends form school. Vince was kind of seeing someone and she turned out to be a quiet, pretty nurse he'd met months ago in the hospital. 

They were already eating when the car pulled up and Dom found himself getting to his feet, Brian as well, when Hector showed up and sang out a greeting. "I'm late!" he said cheerfully and popped the trunk. "But I brought the goods!" Hector had not just brought the drinks, he'd brought a pony keg. 

"Nothing like a little over-kill to say I'm sorry," Dom said, leaning into Brian. 

Brian just looked bemused then went to help wrestle the keg out of the trunk along with an overflowing tin washbasin of other drinks. 

His contribution unloaded, Hector dived back into his car and pulled out a different dish, stopping in front of Brian. "From my mamma. _cajeta flan, hermano_. It gets no better," Hector said. "She and me...what you did for Jose," he hesitated, then shrugged. "Thanks, man." He said then looked Brian in the eye. "I'm really sorry about your partner." 

Brian nodded and looked away, and Dom rescued the desert. "How's Jose doing?" Brian asked. 

Hector made a rude noise. "He was being mouthy, but now, he's starting to think this is good, 'cause juvie ain't got nothin' on what my mother is going to do to him when he gets out." 

"I could see if they'd extend his sentence," Brian said and Hector stared at him for a long moment before the smile broke out on his face. 

"He might take you up on that," he said. "Yo, Dominic. Where's the grub, man?" 

It was kind of like blinking and missing something, Dom thought, as Hector slid in between Letty and Mia, charming and flirting. 

They made pretty good inroads into the keg. Vince disappeared after dinner to take his nurse home, but a couple of hours later he was back, and just in time to help move everything into the house when it started raining again, coming down in sheets and there was nothing to do but pop in a movie and wait for it to stop. 

When it eased off, Hector offered to take the girls home because they were both a little drunk still and sleepy and Letty might have made an issue of it once, but Hector sweet talked in such a way that she was laughing at him, an arm around his neck as they walked out to the car. 

"What about those two?" Mia still had sense enough to ask. Leon was snoring loud enough to rattle windows and Vince had that look on his face that was half way between glazed and over alert. Sleeping with his eyes open. 

"We'll take care of them," Brian promised and walked her out. 

"They okay?" Dom asked when he came back. Brian was a little damp. 

"Yeah. Hector didn't drink that much," Brian said and looked at their remaining two guests. "I'll get blankets," he said, amused. Leon was on the sofa, Vince on the floor. They provided the minimum and Brian shut down the house while Dom cleared the rest of the bottles. They met somewhere in the middle of the living room, Brian's hand sliding across Dom's belly. Rain outside, dark inside and Dom didn't need to see to find Brian's mouth. It wasn't even really a precursor to anything else. 

"Oh, man," Vince piped up and what light there was made his eyes glitter. "Don't do that in front of me. Get a room," he protested but he was still buzzed. 

"Vince?" Dom said, grinning at him. "This is _our_ room. Shut your eyes and don't look, you perv." 

Vince grunted and pulled the blanket around him, heading for the floor. "Oh, yeah. Well, you know...just, if you're gonna. Keep it down." 

Brian was shaking with silent laughter and Dom gave Vince a tap with his foot. "Shut up and go to sleep," he said and pulled Brian toward the bedroom. "Asshole," he tossed back. "I don't know, you think we can be quiet, Bri?" he whispered, loudly. 

"When I've got your dick in my mouth, I think I'm pretty quiet," Brian said and his hand cupped Dom's groin giving him a squeeze. "You might have a problem." 

He had a point. He'd also roused the very thing Vince was whining about. With a nudge, Dom had Brian pinned to the wall in the hall. 

"I got no problem reversing that. You want me to suck you off, Bri?," Dom said, grinning when Brian's eyes half closed, and his breathing shallowed out. 

They'd probably had too much beer to be truly good at this, but Brian had the damnedest gift for putting images in Dom's head that set his blood rushing south. His hand skimmed under Brian's shirt, feeling hot skin, nipples going hard with the lightest touch. Brian's hand slid over his ass and pulled him closer, thumb teasing him even through his slacks. 

Brian's lips nudge up under his ear. "I'd rather fuck you," he said softly, and it was Dom's turn to find breathing a little more of a challenge. He hadn't gotten up to offering yet, but Brian asked now and then and Dom had yet to tell him no. 

"I think I'd like that," Dom growled back at him, the thought of it bringing him up hard and he kissed Brian, almost brutally, before pushing him into the bedroom. Stripping down was like an Olympic event, not daring to touch each other or they'd get distracted. 

When Brian reached for the condom, Dom pushed Brian's hand away and shoved him onto the bed to sheath his dick himself before the mattress stopped shaking. Then dropped his mouth over Brian's cock to prove a point. _See who can be quiet now, sweetheart,_ he thought but was disappointed. 

Only by the lack of sound though. The rest was doubly satisfying in prepping Brian's dick and watching his chest heave because Dom had him off guard and shaking. When he lifted his head, Brian's dick was stretching the condom and quivering. Dom licked him from navel to throat, letting his dick brush Brian's belly before invading his mouth. 

Brian pushed him up and over, hand scrabbling for the bottle of slick and Dom snagged a pillow, shoving it under his hips. . They were being quiet, maybe quieter than normal and not from any worry about Vince's sensibilities. Dom had no doubt if they could control their own erratic breathing, they'd hear Vince snoring. 

It made it more intense somehow and Dom didn't want to think about why having people in the other room, friends, was somehow making this so much hotter. Brian's breath was warm and moist at his neck, nipping and licking and biting, mouthing his shoulder. He nudged Dom's legs apart and Dom squeezed his eyes shut when Brian's fingers slipped between his ass cheeks, stroking, pressing, laying a line of cool slick on his skin, up under his balls and then back again. Brian drew back and something wetter touched his skin, not as slick and Dom bit into the pillow as Brian's tongue teased the inside of his thighs, along the crease, then along his crack until it touched Dom's hole. 

It was like being electrocuted but without the pain. Dom didn't even know how Brian could _do_ that, but he had no breath to tell him to stop and no will either. Suction, not pressure; fluttering wet caresses, not stretching. Against the pillow, his own dick felt like a shard of hard glass, ready to shatter, explode, and he couldn't stop himself from humping against the pillow. 

Then Brian's mouth was moving up his spine, lips and tongue and occasionally teeth raking over his vertebrae. Brian fumbled for a moment, but then was back, and his fingers once more probed Dom's ass, circling and teasing before sliding inside him. 

Dom groaned into the pillow, not even sure he'd made that sound. Christ, he wanted Brian to get on with it, but also didn't want him to stop what he was doing, which was opening him wider, and Dom lifted his hips and spread his legs a little wider, digging his toes, then his knees into the bed when Brian's fingers stroked over his prostate. 

He almost came right then and jerked, lifting his head to suck in a great gulp of air when Brian finally, _finally,_ fit himself against Dom's back and started pushing in. His own ragged breathing was a counterpoint to Brian's who was taking a breath and holding it, then blowing it out as he worked himself inside Dom with a series of tiny thrusts that drove Dom insane. There wasn't any pain, just pressure building, almost unbearably for a moment and Dom found himself resisting, pushing back. 

Arms braced on either side of Dom's waist, Brian sucked in another breath and Dom made himself relax. Brian came in like a perfect lock set and Dom quit holding back. 

He as pretty sure Vince heard him. It was likely they'd heard him halfway down the block but then he was grunting with pleasure; Brian snapping his hips in hard, hitting the perfect angle, the perfect rhythm and Dom didn't have to do anything but enjoy the ride. 

Brian drew it out, panting harshly against Dom's back and moving more slowly, then picking up the pace again, until Dom was floating along in a haze, his cock twitching, leaking. The haze cleared a little when Brian grabbed his hips and pulled him back, half up on his knees, and stroked Dom's ass a little faster until Brian went rigid, twitching, fingers digging into Dom's skin as he spilled his load. 

His grip eased and Brian tugged at him again, not so strongly, but Dom got his arms under him and pushed back, reaching behind him when Brian's chin came to his shoulder and his hands, shaking a little, stroked Dom firmly. 

The sensation of being fucked hadn't left him, he could still feel the rub and burn in his ass. Brian's hands fucked him from the outside, worked him and the haze burned away entirely in a flash of exploding nerves and heat and come. He found himself curled forward, panting, Brian's fingers still teasing him, easing him when he pulled back, his dick slipping from Dom like a last caress. Brian gave him a tug and Dom just collapsed, both of them stretching out to ease now demanding aches in their backs and legs. 

_I really needed to learn to ask for this,_ Dom thought. He also needed to learn to do that tongue thing. He twisted a little and found Brian's mouth, tasted sweat in his hair. Brian kissed him back then climbed over him, heading for the bathroom and stripping off the condom. 

Blood tests too, Dom thought. Condoms were just nasty. He stretched out on his side, catching Brian blinking a little at the bathroom light. Poor Vince. There was only one bathroom and Dom wasn’t likely to want a blanket tonight. 

Brian came back, leaving the bathroom light on, and Dom rolled to his back when he held up a washcloth. It was warm and Brian's hand was gentle, tender even. Respecting the tools, Dom thought with a chuff of laughter. Brian grinned and tossed the cloth toward the clothes hamper. 

He sat there for a minute, eyes traveling over Dom's body slowly, not so much lustful as contemplative. After sex, Dom usually wanted nothing so much as too sleep, Brian sometimes seemed a little more alert. His hand hovered over Dom's mouth, touching the remainder of the cut. Dom had all but forgotten about it. 

"What are you doing?" Dom asked softly. 

"Thinking about Tony," Brian said and for a brief second Dom thought that was strange and not a little creepy. But maybe not. He pressed the flat of his palm against Brian's chest, feeling his heartbeat, the warm skin. Even with the bathroom light on, he couldn’t really see Brian's eyes; they were caught in shadow, whereas Dom felt bathed in light, exposed. He wasn't sure he liked it but he didn't move. Guilt could take Brian at weird moments, so could other things. 

"You know I love you, right?" Brian's voice was less than a whisper, the words harder to say than to feel. Dom wasn't sure Brian had ever said it before. He wasn't sure he had. He sat up slowly, tucking a knee behind Brian's back, caught his neck and pulled him forward. 

Tony Rico was dead. It made sense. "I know, "Dom said, barely brushing his lips across Brian's. "Me too, Bri." 

Affirmation more than passion, and Dom gave a second's thought to Maria Rico and her now fatherless son. It was Brian more than him, but the why of it had more to do with Dom's world than Brian's. It was an imperfect, painful merging, but here he and Brian were. 

_Bella Morte._

Dom closed his eyes. He pulled Brian down and tasted salt on his cheeks. 

_~end~_

9/30/04  


* * *

  
1\. _Desidero essere là per voi._  
I'm  
here for you.  
2\. _Sarà tutto destra._  
It will be all right  
3\. _Si usted necesita cualquier cosa,_  
llámenos, Maria. Call us if you need anything, Maria  


[Lasciate che muoia la morte del giovane](http://www.vicoacitillo.it/xenia/12.htm)  
by Roger McGough 

Lasciate che muoia la morte del giovane  
non una morte pulita & tra lenzuola  
candide morte dacquasanta  
non una morte da ultime parole famose  
serena che si spegne nellaffanno  
~~  
~~  
Lasciate che muoia la morte del giovane  
non una morte in punta di piedi senza peccato  
che mi consumi come cera di candela  
morte da tende tirate sorretta dagli angeli  
la bella morte del caro estinto. 

\----------- 

Let me die a young man's death  
not a clean and in-between  
the sheets holy water death  
not a famous-last-words  
peaceful out of breath death.  
~~  
~~  
Let me die a young man's death  
not a free from sin tiptoe in  
candle wax and waning death  
not a curtains drawn by angels borne  
'what a nice way to go' death.


End file.
